Brothers and Sisters
by SweetSinger2010
Summary: Michaela's been out of town for a week and her children are eager for her return. Sully has instructed them to be neat, clean, and ready to go meet the train. Can the children stay out of trouble long enough to make it to town, or will some accidents change their plans? Oldest daughter Katie is trying to keep the family put together, but things go hilariously wrong.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Disregarding the DQMW movies, I've imagined up a larger family for our favorite couple. I hope you enjoy this brief tale of mischief and mayhem! I'm not sure it's my best, but I wanted to finish it and share. As always, I own nothing.

_Brothers and Sisters_

Michaela was more than a little disappointed when she stepped off the train and saw no smiling family to greet her. After a long week spent lecturing co-eds in Denver, she had been so looking forward to returning home to her loved ones. She checked her watch and brightened just a little; her train had arrived fifteen minutes early. Why, she thought, Sully and the children were probably on their way to the station _this_ _very moment_. No need to fret. Michaela sat on a bench and waited.

When twenty-five minutes had come and gone, and she could no longer reason that her family was running late, a frown appeared between the doctor's eyes. Two disturbing notions presented themselves to her. One: her family had forgotten about her. This, Michaela shrugged off with the confidence of a woman who knew she was fondly loved. They hadn't forgotten. There was only one possibility.

Something had come up; something was wrong.

Michaela's jaw clenched against worry. She left her small trunk with Horace in the telegraph office and set out from the depot, walking swiftly, instinctively, in the direction of the clinic.

Sully left the homestead very early that morning to assist with a small surveying job several miles outside of town. He planned to be back home in time to change clothes and take the children into town to meet Michaela's one o'clock train. Sully stole into his eldest daughter's room before sunrise and left a note of reminder in her limp hand.

It was a little after seven, and Katie lay face to face with five year old Marjorie. The younger girl was on her stomach, little chin resting decorously on folded hands, ever-patiently waiting for big sister to wake up. At long last, Katie's blue eyes fluttered open and met with big hazel ones.

"Mornin', Katie."

"Good morning, Marjorie," the big sister returned with a smile. She stretched and yawned. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I heard the brothers go out to do chores an' I couldn't stay sleepin', Katie, I couldn't. I'm so asited!" Marjorie's cheeks dimpled with unusual glee. She flipped over and buried her face in Katie's shoulder. Katie reached down and began to tickle the little girl's ribs and tummy.

"And why are you _excited_, Miss Marjorie Rebecca?" She prodded mischievously. Her little sister squirmed and kicked, giggling.

"I'm asited," she gasped breathlessly, on the verge of full-out laughter, "Because Mama's tummin' home! Ow! Ow! Katie—Katie, stop it!" Marjorie shrieked. Little hands locked around bigger ones and stopped the assault. The little girl gasped and gulped, trying to steady her breathing and regain her composure.

"No more tickle, Katie."

The sisters sat up in a tangle of arms, legs, and bedclothes, staring solemnly at one another.

"Katie," Marjorie asked softly, settled back into her usual reserve. "Wha'sat?" She pointed at the piece of paper that had somehow remained clutched in her sister's hand. Katie unfolded it.

"It's a note from Pa," she said, reading quickly. "He left early, but he'll be back in time to take us into town. He wants us to be ready for him."

At the mention of town, Marjorie put a hand to her tousled hair and her prim little mouth formed a horrified _oh_.

"Fix it, Katie."

Katie and Marjorie had just finished setting the table for breakfast when the door burst open. Thirteen year old Josef stepped in, holding little brother Michael by the waist, upside down. Marjorie looked at her big brother and her twin brother disapprovingly. Both were dripping wet. The eldest of the group stood with her mouth agape.

"_What_ in the _world_ happened to you?" She demanded.

Josef grinned crookedly. "Guess who tried to take a swim in the water trough?"

"Michael!" Katie cried in dismay. "You might have drowned!"

"The trough is _dirty_," Marjorie interjected, squeamishness in her voice.

Michael glared at one sister while rejoining the other. "Awww," he dragged out the word, insulted by Katie's lack of faith in his aquatic skills. "But I din't."

Katie head, exasperated. "Well, you're soaking, both of you. I won't even ask how _you_ came to be in the trough, _Josef Quinn Sully_."

Josef scowled at the use of his full name. Katie folded her arms and put on her best no-nonsense face, an expression she had mastered in her short sixteen years by watching her mother deal with Loren, Jake, and Hank.

"Now, get out of here—_you're dripping on the clean floor!_ You can eat breakfast on the porch, and then you _both_ have to _bathe_. We're going into town to meet Ma's train. Pa told me to have you all ready to leave at 12:30."

"Aww!"

"C'mon!" The boys whined in unison. Michael's face, already red from hanging upside down, turned redder.

"There ain't no time to make warm water!"

"It's summer time," his twin pointed out matter-of-factly. He stuck his tongue out at her. Katie cocked an eyebrow and shoved her brothers through the door. They looked at her dumbly. She shrugged.

"The water in the trough wasn't warm," she said airily, shutting them out of the house.

At about a quarter to twelve, the children were neat, clean, and eager for departure. All were dressed in their Sunday best. Josef sat on the front porch teaching Michael how to whittle. The girls occupied themselves in the kitchen. Katie stood at the counter expertly preparing lunch for the special occasion, one of her mother's full aprons protecting her royal blue muslin from splashes and spills. Marjorie sat primly at the table, shelling peas, careful not to muss her pink dress or glossy French braid. The kitchen door stood open, a warm wind stirring Katie's loose waves, and the boys' voices floated inside.

"Josef, this collar is itchy."

"Then undo the top button, dim-wit."

There was a momentary silence. "Can't," the little boy said glumly.

"That's too bad," Josef returned unsympathetically.

"Hey!" Michael whined. "That's not fair! You're big—you're _subbosed ta_ help me!"

"Says who?" He challenged.

"Says _Ma_!"

"So?" Josef was intent on riling his brother. "Ma's not here to make me."

The next thing Katie heard was the sound of scuffling on the porch, Michael having lunged at and tackled Josef.

"No!" She called out in alarm from the kitchen. She ran out onto the porch, wildly waving a spoon in her hand. "Don't you _dare_ get dirty now! Pa will be home any minute."

The wrestling continued. Katie heaved a big sigh.

"If you two behave, I'll let you have a treat," she coaxed desperately. The wrestling stopped. Michael's eyes lit up.

"What treat?"

"Cookies. But you won't get any if you don't quit horsin' around." She answered severely. "Come inside and sit down where I can see you."

Michael trudged inside—disappointed he had to come inside—and situated himself under the table, demonstrating as much non-compliance as he dared. Josef leaned on the counter next to Katie, smirking in true Sully-fashion.

"That was more for his benefit than yours," Katie quipped. "I shouldn't give _you_ anything."

"But you're not that mean," he said, grinning.

"Lucky for you," she muttered darkly. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Marjorie still busy with the peas and Michael sitting poutily under the table, eyeing the oven whence the warm smell of baking cookies arose. Satisfied with the twins' behavior, Katie wiped her hands on her apron and turned her attention back to cooking, ignoring Josef's continued presence at her side. She took several peeled potatoes out of a bowl of water and began dicing them carefully, one by one, tossing the chunks in a pot.

"Bring me another knife," she said to Josef as she finished the third. "This one is too dull for anything."

"Here, is this one alright?" he asked innocently, handing her a dangerous-looking instrument that was excessively long and sharp. She glared at him, but took the knife in her outstretched left hand. With her right, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced out the window.

"Look. Pa's riding up. I _think_ I have just enough time to finish dicing these and set them to boil before—"

An unearthly shriek erupted behind them. Katie jolted violently with a half-scream of her own. The knife clattered to the floor. Josef sprang across the room in an instant and knelt by hysterical Michael. The oven door was wide open and a pan lay at his feet.

Josef frantically unfurled his brother's balled fists. Michael struggled against him.

"Are you burned? What were you thinkin'?" He demanded with an anger born from fear. He finally fought the boy's hands open. The palms were burned bright pink, already blistering. Josef checked his language, tempted to swear.

"We've gotta take him to the clinic," he muttered anxiously, turning the little hands over and over again, examining them.

"Josef, Josef, look!" Marjorie screamed suddenly, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

Josef snapped his head around, and gasped audibly.

"_Katie_—your arm!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Brothers and Sisters, Part 2_

The homestead in plain view, Sully urged his horse into a canter. An uneasy feeling was settling itself in the pit of his stomach. A fatherly sixth sense told him that the sooner he got home, the better. He knew that something had already gone awry when he rode around the back of the house and saw two sets of boys' clothes hanging out on the line to dry. But Sully had to laugh when he saw the water trough half-full and a water trail leading to the house. He could only imagine the kind of mischief his sons had gotten in to.

He hadn't yet made it up to the barn when he heard the scream emit from the house. He leapt off his horse and ran to the porch, his hand hovering over his tomahawk instinctively.

"Your arm!" He heard Josef exclaim, panicked. Sully flung open the door. The scene was unequal to any he'd ever witnessed. And he'd seen some _things_ in his lifetime. This, though, _this_ was something else.

Michael stood by the oven, still wailing in shock and pain. Marjorie had somehow ended up standing on her chair and was wringing her little hands in agony, looking from brother to sister, trying not to cry. Josef had his arm around Katie's waist, holding her up. The sleeve of her dress was wet with blood along the entire right forearm, elbow to wrist. It began to drip from her fingers.

Sully didn't whether he should help the screaming child or the bleeding one first.

"His hands hurt worse than my arm," Katie whispered through pale lips, sensing her father's hesitation. Her words spurred Sully into action.

"Josef, help Katie sit down," he ordered, his wits finally about him. "Put pressure on her arm and keep it held up." Sully hurriedly knelt in front of Michael, who stretched out his scalded hands pitifully.

"Look," he blubbered. Sully examined the little palms carefully, also taking notice of the cookie pan and open oven.

"You get burned trying to take that out?"

Michael hung his head. "Yes." He sniffled loudly.

Sully sighed, debating. Should he scold his son for impatience or lack of sense—or both? He decided not to scold at all. He lifted the little boy's chin and made him look directly at him.

"I guess you're not going to do that again, are you?" He asked gently. Two huge tears spilled from Michael's eyes.

"No," he whimpered. Sully nodded, satisfied. He rose and turned to Marjorie, picking her up and removing her from her perch. Distress was almost overwhelming the poor thing. She locked her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, trying to hide her tears.

"Bad," she said miserably. There was a tremor in her voice. Sully rubbed her back comfortingly before setting her down.

"Can you do something for me?" He asked, lifting her chin. She nodded. "I want you to take Michael outside. There's a bucket of water by the well; it's not very full, you can lift it. Have your brother hold out his hands and pour the water over them, a little bit at a time. It'll help the burning."

"Ok," she whispered. She seized her brother by the wrist and all but dragged him out the door. Sorry as she was that he got burned, she had no sympathy for the mode of his injury—especially not when her sister was hurt worse! Marjorie stopped on the threshold to question her father.

"Are you gonna take care of Katie?"

Sully was already moving toward his oldest daughter. "Yes."

"_Prooo_mise?"

"Cross my heart," he vowed. Marjorie, satisfied, took her twin out back and set about her task. Cries of "Ow, ow, _owwww_!" drifted in from outside.

Sully stood over his eldest son and daughter, both of whom were seated at the kitchen table. "_How_?"He cut to the chase.

"It was my fault," Josef began remorsefully. "She was cookin' and she asked me to get her a knife. I handed her that one," he pointed to the blood-stained blade on the floor, "for a joke."

"It _wasn't_ his fault, Pa," Katie spoke up, her voice muffled. She had her face buried in her outstretched left arm. "He'd just handed me the knife when Michael started shrieking. It scared me so bad that I jumped a-and cut myself."

"_All_ the way up your arm?" The wound was mpressive, but definitely not in a good way.

"The tip was really sharp," Katie moaned. "Michael scared me to death when he screamed—I don't know—maybe I was holding it too close. Just a dumb accident."

Sully pursed his lips in concern. "You're bleedin' pretty bad. Let me take a look."

Slowly, Katie sat up and stretched out her arm, keeping it elevated and slightly bent at the elbow. She turned her eyes away from the blood.

Sully needed only one brief look at the long gash. "Josef, go hitch up the wagon and meet us out front—and get the twins.. We're going to the clinic."

The young man ran out without a word. Sully ripped away what was left of Katie's sleeve and then moved to the hem of her apron.

"Don't!" Katie cried, aghast. "This is Ma's best one." She stared at her father blankly. He eyed the crimson stain down the front.

"Not anymore," he responded plaintively. His capable hands made quick work of the cloth, tearing it into bandages to wrap around her arm. She cradled it against her chest when he finished, applying as much pressure as she could with her other hand.

"I think I heard Josef pull out front with the wagon. Can you walk?"

Katie stood carefully and took an experimental step forward. Within seconds, she knew it was going to be a failed attempt. "Nope," she answered. Her face drained and she blinked against the darkness crowding her vision. Sully was quick to catch her as she crumpled. He hoisted her in his arms and her head lolled against his shoulder.

Katie revived as the wagon bumped and jolted its way to town. Josef was driving, and the twins were wedged onto the seat with him. Sully sat in the back of the wagon, holding Katie's head in his lap and helping her apply pressure to her arm. She blinked up at him, frowning.

"We're going to miss Ma's train."

"No kiddin'." Sully shook his head. Michaela would be disappointed. "How can you help your ma as much as you do and get so woozy looking at blood?"

Katie fought a wave of dizziness. "It's never been my blood before," she mumbled. "Need stitches."

"We're almost to the clinic. I can stitch you up myself if I have to."

Katie groaned. Things were going from bad to worse.

The frown on Michaela's forehead deepened when she saw the family wagon outside the clinic. She quickened her step; by the time she threw open the clinic door, she was almost in a jog.

"MA!"

The twins saw her immediately and they sprang forward. Marjorie was in tears again and buried her face in her mother's skirt, but Josef was perfectly able to relay the events of the wild morning. And he did it in a single breath.

"MA, YOU JUST WOULDN'T BELIEVE. This morning we went out to do chores and I fell in the trough and Josef jumped in to get me even though I wasn't gonna drowned and then Katie made us take baths in cold water and THEN after that she promised cookies but I got impatient so _whaddya know_ I opened the oven and got burned on my hands and I hollered real loud AND THEN Katie jumped like a scare-baby and stabbed herself in the arm!"

He gulped for air then, hardly missing a beat before he stretched his scalded palms out to his mother for inspection. "They feel a little better now, see? But still hot."

Michaela blinked in bewilderment, looking beyond the twins to see Sully deep in concentration, wielding a needle and thread. Katie lay on the examination table, her face pasty and as white as the sheet beneath her.

"Um," Michaela began distractedly, "How about you and Marjorie go sit on the porch for a minute? After I help Katie, we'll get some salve that will make your hands feel all better, alright?"

Michael grinned and threw his arms around her waist before he ran out the door, dragging his reluctant sister behind him. "I'm sure glad you're back!"

"Me too," Sully remarked wryly. "We would have been there to meet your train, but things camp up."

"So I hear." Michaela's lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. "And here I thought that you'd forgotten about me."

"Never." Sully planted a kiss on the back of her neck as she leaned down to examine Katie's stitches.

"Everything looks fine," she concluded at length. "We'll keep an eye out for infection, but it should heal up nicely."

With help from both parents, Katie sat up and breathed deeply, finally overcoming her dizziness now that the bleeding had stopped. She offered a shaky smile, glancing at both of them. "Welcome home."

Michaela laughed and the worry lines on her face smoothed out. "Now, can I have the real story? How did this all happen?" Michael was a born story-teller and prone to a little exaggeration; Michaela naturally assumed that there was a more reasonable explanation for the wild morning.

"Well…" Katie paused thoughtfully. "Michael _did_ leave out the part about how I was trying to cook your favorite lunch."

Michaela's eyebrows rose almost into her hairline, and Sully choked back a laugh. "I see. And you?" She turned to Josef, who stood smirking good-naturedly in the corner. "You really jumped in the trough to save your brother from 'drowning?'"

He cleared his throat, feigning seriousness. "I was concerned."

"Mhmm."

The twins peeked into the clinic and Marjorie tip-toed inside. "Mama, it was awful," she whispered solemnly. "Don't leave again."

"I promise," Michaela vowed with equal solemnity, "not to leave again anytime soon." She met her husband's eyes and they shared a secret smile.

In the half hour that followed, Katie regained her color, Marjorie regained her composure, and Michael only howled a little bit as his mother applied salve and bandages to his burned hands.

"I think," the doctor declared when she had finished her work and all her children were well, "that a good meal is in order. Sully?"

"Let's head over to Grace's," he assented readily. "We didn't leave our kitchen in a good state for cookin'."

The family burst out laughing and chattering about the abandoned cookies, peas, knife, and ruined apron as they crossed the street to Grace's Café. Katie and Marjorie walked hand in hand, Josef tossed Michael up onto his shoulders. Mike and Sully trailed behind.

Michaela linked her arm through her husband's. "How was Denver?" He asked.

"Denver was…calm." She paused, reflecting. This wasn't her children's first misadventure, not the first strangely-gotten injury, not the first time that something had gone horribly awry, and certainly not the last. She shuddered to think of what could possibly happen next. "But I wouldn't trade this life—with all of its stitches and burns and chaos—for anything."


End file.
